#while sitting at his computer for the thirteenth hour in a row

[ridiasfangirlings]

I love how pretty the S4 squad is. They all have such unique personalities, too. And they're all in pretty great shape! What do you think their unique workout routines would be to stay in shape aside from required S4-mandated training?

I would hope they're all in good shape, only Fushimi is allowed to be unhealthy in Scepter 4 XD For exercise routines, I imagine Akiyama and Benzai are some the most active members of the group – or they were, until they got a kotatsu and realized they can take it easy sometimes so now it's like they're still very active in the summer months and then hibernate all winter. I feel like it was mentioned somewhere that they spar fairly often, I could see them going to the dojo on their own time and practicing together. They also probably keep up with some of their old training regimen from Special Forces, like daily exercises and things to keep their muscles in shape.

Similarly I imagine Doumyouji would mostly do sword training on his own, using techniques from his family dojo. He probably knows some moves the others don't and has some regular exercises that his parents put their students through and likes to do them on his own from time to time. I could see Kamo accompanying him at times too, though I imagine Kamo's exercise regimen would be mostly sticking to Scepter 4's regular mandated training and some occasional extra sword work (he also likely spends a lot of time in the kitchen so he doesn't have as much free time as some of the others might for training).

Enomoto I don't really see doing much for extra training, he probably prefers to use his free time for hobbies and just tries to get the most out of his mandated training. Fuse and Gotou I think would be similar, figuring they get plenty out of their usual S4 training so there isn't much need to do additional work beyond that. Hidaka I could see being a bit more active though, his Fan Clan profile mentions he likes physical education and was in a sports club in school, and he strikes me as the sort of person who would eagerly get up at 4 in the morning for a good jog. I think Hidaka would prefer a more active training routine though, like where most of the others focus on swordplay Hidaka's more into running and doing team sports, like I could totally see him trying to get everyone to play a game of handball or something. He probably doesn't follow a specific routine other than daily runs but he tries to keep active often and is surprisingly mindful of his body's condition.

[lswritingdesk]

3. Fragment

I apologise for there being no rhyme or reason to me uploading these fics. I have a number of them- 13 installments as of me posting this one. I should post them on a more regular basis, but I haven’t really been getting on my computer as much recently. I will strive to post more regularly. Thank you to those of you reading and interacting!

Daniel Jackson makes his first real appearance! Hooray!

-

In the freezing season of her Twenty-third Cycle, Kyrie woke suddenly in the middle of the night. She had been living in a small flat of the Maren City Cube for three years now, ever since she had graduated from the College of Statics and joined the Rata Pten Krewe. She had been assigned to study the ancient City along with a team of eleven others, and she and her family had been thrilled with the assignment.

After half an hour had passed and she did not fall back asleep, Kyrie turned off the sound machine that mimicked the sound of the ocean- she would always need the sound of the ocean to fall asleep- and softly padded through her small flat. She wrapped her robe tighter around her and looked into her little garden that was dormant with the season. Something flickered in her mind. She stood there quietly and waited for the flicker to grow into something that she could grab onto.

A vision of a lush garden grew in her mind, and she remembered the Dreamscape that she had not dreamt of since she was in her Thirteenth Cycle and newly out of the Fragment. Something tugged in her chest, and she knew it was the Fragment calling out to her. She didn’t know if she should go now or in the morning. Surely there was a Tender at the Fragment at all times, but she didn’t know if her pass would work at the teleporter. 

Kyrie put on another layer of clothing and went out into the frozen garden and sat on the bench to meditate. She called up the Dreamscape, entering it as easily as if she had been entering it every day since she was in her Thirteenth Cycle. She walked around the lush garden, touching the plants that burst with life, the total opposite of the garden her physical body sat in. The man was there, the one that had been in her visions. He sat on a bench under a tree on the other side of the garden, his back to her. She knew better than to call out. She tried to walk towards him, but the distance between them only seemed to grow. She grew frustrated and eventually gave up, sitting on a bench of her own and staring at his back, willing him to turn around and look at her. A part of her understood that she would not be able to reach him until she entered the Fragment, so she let go of the Dreamscape and her meditation and woke up, her body stiff from the cold. 

She went inside and pulled up the holoscreen, regretting the time, but knowing it was necessary. Kyrie placed the call to Elder Rhea and waited for it to go through. It took some time, but finally the Elder stood before her on the screen, waiting for an explanation from the younger woman.

“The Fragment is calling me. I cannot reach the man in my Dreamscape until I go into it. I tried for some time to reach him, but it was impossible.”

“Then your time has come. A Tender will be waiting for you. I will ensure that your pass will let you use the teleporter. May the Eternal Alchemy guide you.” The screen clicked off. Kyrie didn’t know what else she was expecting, but she was expecting a little more than that from the Elder. She went into her room to change into her winter Seers’ robes, and then she made her way to the teleporters. True to her word, Elder Rhea had made sure her pass would work, and Kyrie found herself in the Fragment grove under the light of a half moon.

A Tender in thick robes of their own met her at the teleporter and led her to the entry of the Fragment. “Kyrie, of House Tethyos, are you ready to enter the Fragment and see your vision?”

“Yes, Tender, I am.”

“Then enter and meet your truth.” 

Kyrie entered the trees, but this time, there were no purple stars. She did not fall into a golden orb of light. She walked into a lecture hall. The man was at the bottom giving a lecture, and though she could not hear him, she could see that the lecture was going poorly. People were shaking their heads. Some even got up and left. The man was growing visibly flustered and frustrated. Finally, someone in the front row got up and beseeched him to quit. He looked so sad as he gathered up his materials and left the lecture hall out the side door. When the scene did not change, Kyrie realised that she was to hurry after him.

The man walked down the hall and down a set of stairs into the basement of the building, and Kyrie rushed after him, her footsteps the only sound in the silence. She slid into the room the man entered just moments before he slammed the door. She looked around in awe at all of the books and scrolls and objects that decorated the room as the man sat down in defeat, his head in his hands. He sighed, and Kyrie sighed on his behalf. She didn’t like how that lecture hall had treated him. His head shot up, and he stared right at her. Kyrie froze, realising that sound had returned to the world, that this man had heard her sigh and was now staring at her.

“Who the hell are you?” the man asked, staring at the strangely dressed woman who had all but beamed into his office. He had not seen her enter, nor had he seen her in there when he had entered. How had she gotten in?

“You can see me? And hear me?” Kyrie asked, incredulously. She waved a hand in front of his face, then snatched it back when he attempted to grab or swat it, maybe both.

“Yes, and I want to know who you are and how you got into my office, because you weren’t in here when I came in, and I did not let you in myself.” Kyrie’s stomach dropped.

“I’m in the Fragment,” she responded, as if that were an answer. 

“The what?”

“I’m not really here, in your office. I’m...I’m in the Fragment. It’s an ancient anomaly on another planet that we Seers enter to see visions to help guide us…” Kyrie realised how insane she must sound to this man. She switched tactics. “What is your name?”

“You’re on another planet?” The man caught on this tidbit that she had let slide.

“Uh,” Kyrie began, but she was cut off.

“I must surely be losing it now. They probably sent you in here as a joke to mess with me after the disaster that was that lecture. I’m the laughingstock of the academic community now. So what planet are you from? Mars? Jupiter?”

“Illyria,” Kyrie said softly. “And you aren’t crazy, just...misunderstood. The right people are waiting just around the corner for you, I promise. They will hear your lecture and know the truth.” The man barked out a harsh laugh.

“And you know that how?”

Kyrie straightened. “I’m a Seer. It’s my job to watch the Timelines.” She said this importantly, like she had seen this man’s Timeline, when in reality she was just as in the dark as him. But something inside of her was telling her that she had to encourage this man right now. She had to keep him going. 

“If you’ve supposedly seen my Timeline, then why don’t you know my name?” Kyrie winced. He had caught her. 

“You are my first...assignment. I woke up in the dead of the night and felt the pull to enter the Fragment. I know this doesn’t make sense to you now, but one day it will,” she rushed out, trying to make sense of this for herself so she could make sense of it for him. “The Fragment shows Seers visions so that we can guide others to make important decisions. And it guided me here to you, so I can only guess that I am here to encourage you not to quit. I saw the lecture. I don’t know what it was about, but I know it went badly and that you subsequently are ready to give up, but you can’t. Not yet. As I said before, the right people will hear your story soon, and they will bring you to the right path. I am merely a conduit.” The man sighed.

“I’ll be forced out of this institution shortly, I know it. After that lecture, it’s only a matter of time. I can’t hang on for much longer.”

“Then the answer that we’re both waiting for is surely coming soon.”

“You sure have a lot of faith in something you aren’t sure of.” 

“The Eternal Alchemy leads us all to the right path in the end. It may not be the path we were looking for, but it is the right path.”

“The Eternal Alchemy?”

“My belief system.” Kyrie could feel herself fading. “I don’t have much time left here. Please believe that this was real. Believe in yourself. And before I go...what is your name?”

“Daniel. Daniel Jackson. And who are you?” Before she could answer, Kyrie faded from the room.

Kyrie’s name died on her lips as she materialised on the edge of the Fragment’s grove. Thankfully she was not staggering or bleeding this time. It was mid-morning. Apparently time did not pass the same way while one was in the Fragment as it did in the real world. Elder Rhea stood some feet away with the Tender, watching gravely as Kyrie left the shelter of the trees.

“You’ve been gone for over a day,” Elder Rhea commented mildly. Kyrie shook her head.

“Have you been waiting all this time?”

“No, the Tenders know when someone is close to coming out. The Fragment...makes it known. They let me know you were due soon, and I came along. Did you make contact?”

“Yes. And I think I’ll be able to contact him in my Dreamscape now. I know his name now.”

“You must stay veiled in your Dreamscape, just so you know.”

“I understand.”

“It is up to you how you bring the Tau’ri here. There will be very few rules or guidance, as this was given to you by the Fragment. But you will abide by Community rules as they apply.”

“Yes, Elder Rhea.”

“You will be fine. You will be just fine.”

--

@heathenterkin​ @luckyninetales @logicheartsoul​ @sky-of-starflowers​ @kirazalea​ @star-fish23

[killjoy-loveit]

Breaking the Pattern

A/N: I would like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction and isn’t to be taken as a true portrayal of reality. Tbh I personally think this piece is soft af, but that’s just me *shrugs*

Excerpt: Pursing your lips and flicking your eyes up, you’re ready to explain when the words catch in your throat. The guy standing in front of you is probably the most attractive person you’d ever laid eyes on.

Word Count: 1,608

Genre: Fluff (?)

    Life had always seemed rather trivial to Joshua. Personality wasn’t as valued as productiveness, so he learned how to box his playful/bubbly nature up and set it to the side. In doing so, he felt stifled, as anyone would. Boredom came the easiest when at work, sitting behind a computer all day- fixing problem after problem as they popped up. There were times he lost himself in daydreams filled with excitement and freedom, but each time it would end and his bubble of happiness was lost.

    It’s on a day like any other, solving problems behind the scenes for the company, when he decides he’s had enough. How long is he supposed to constrain himself to fit in? To become the perfect worker? Fingers flying over the keyboard, a resignation is quickly typed without an ounce of hesitation. Jumping up he rushes to the printer, snatching the paper the second it pops out and quickly jotting down his signature.

    Once he’s out of his office he makes his way to the elevator, pressing the button to go up. Joshua’s foot taps restlessly, the elevator feels like it’s going slower than usual. Finally it arrives and he squeezes in, punching the number of the floor his boss is on. Around him people chatter about meetings needing to be set, mergers that are happening soon, and the accounting period that’s about to end. Thankfully the elevator appears to be moving faster and it isn’t long before he exits, leaving the corporate chatter behind.

    A quick knock on the door grants him a barked, “Come in.”

    Entering the office Joshua comes to stand in front of his boss’ desk. She looks up at him, a small smile appearing briefly before speaking. “Joshua, one of my star employees. How can I help you?”

    “I’m putting in my two weeks notice. Here’s my resignation letter.” He replies, handing the paper over to her.

    Her mouth drops open, confusion apparent on her face as she takes his resignation letter. “Why are you resigning? Do we not pay you enough? Did another company poach you?”

    Joshua shakes his head, “No, that’s not it. It has nothing to do with another company nor my pay here.”

    “Is there any way we can make you stay? You’re such a valued employee, it would be a shame to lose you.”

    “Sorry, this is just something I have to do for myself.” He says affirmatively, shifting from one foot to the other.

    “Well… Alright. There are some papers I need you to fill out then, just let me find them.”

    And just like that, an end was put to his corporate career. That is, after his final two weeks pass, and then he’s free. Those two weeks seem to dredge on, time moving at the speed of molasses. Then finally his last day comes and as he leaves at the end of the day, there’s a smile present that is a prime example of pure elation.

    In the past two weeks Joshua had been planning on what to do once he left his corporate job. A few ideas were scratched out almost immediately after writing them down, as the logistics just didn’t seem to work out quite right. It was the thirteenth item on the list that struck gold: moving to the small coastal town a few hours away and either find work or open his own business. What the business would be he’d yet to figure out- but he was certain something would come to him. Thus the next day, after his last of corporate work, all of his stuff was quickly packed away into a moving truck and he was off.

                              ***Time Jump & POV Switch***

    Distraught as you were with the cash register deciding now was a good time to stop functioning, the tinkling sound meant to alert you of an incoming customer completely missed you. A groan of frustration slipped past your lips as you, unsuccessfully, tried to get the cash drawer to pop open. Come on, come on, come on! Even with these desperate words on replay in your mind, the drawer refused to cooperate. At this point you were about to give up and call the guy who owned the repair shop down the street. Admitting defeat and getting help would definitely make more sense than increasing your anger at the register.

    “Stupid. Freaking. Junk!” Each word came out harsh and was accentuated by a small wack to the offending object.

    “I don’t think hitting it is going to help anything.” Someone chuckles across from you.

    Pursing your lips and flicking your eyes up, you’re ready to explain when the words catch in your throat. The guy standing in front of you is probably the most attractive person you’d ever laid eyes on. Well, not probably, he most definitely is. His dark chocolate colored hair falls gently over his forehead, only a few wisps stray in an attempt to cover his eyes. Eyes that are looking at you in amusement, joined by a teasing grin.

    “Um… It won’t open, it’s been finicky since yesterday and nothing I do seems to make it open right now. I guess I’m getting a bit too frustrated.” You comment shyly, hand rubbing at the back of your neck.

    His head tilts slightly. “Would you mind if I took a look at it? I promise I’m not trying to rob you or anything- I worked at a store during college that used this kind of register. It always liked to act up too.”

    Brows furrowing and eyes narrowing, you gave him a cursory glance. In a soft gray sweater and dark jeans, he didn’t exactly look like a robber. Then again, was a robber just going to come in wearing the cartoon stereotype of a black and white striped shirt with a black bandana and matching hat?

    At your lack of response plus your scrutinizing gaze, the guy put his hands in front of him. “I swear! I just moved here, in that little blue house two streets over by the bakery.”

    Your eyebrows shot up as your mouth dropped open. “You’re the guy who moved into the old Rowe house yesterday? I live right across from you, the house with gray siding and a bunny statue by the driveway.”

    “It’s nice to meet a neighbor already, what a small world.”

    “Well, I mean, it is a pretty small town. You kinda know everyone that lives here, even if you don’t know them personally. I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” You pause, a thought popping up. “I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself!”

    He laughs lightly at your sudden outburst. “It’s fine, I take it the name on the tag is yours?” You nod in affirmation. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joshua.”

    “Nice to meet you Joshua!” You take a step back, waving your hand at the register welcomingly. “If you really want to try your hand at fixing this, then go right ahead. Either way you can’t mess it up anymore.”

    Joshua strode around the counter before coming to stand beside you in front of the register. His mouth twisted a bit in concentration as his hands swept over the worn metal of it. Quickly he tapped the side of it three times while holding down two buttons. Surprisingly the cash drawer popped open, and he turned around to face you with a triumphant grin.

    “How did you do that?” You asked excitedly, rushing forward to double check that it was truly open.

    “It’s what always worked to get the one open when it was being finicky where I used to work.”

    “Oh my gods, please teach me that trick!” You turn, clutching his arm and staring at him with wide eyes.

    “Sure.”

    After this encounter, the two of you began the process of forming a quick friendship. It was common for the two of you to meet up for lunch on your breaks, filling the time by sharing stories from your past. Never a dull moment existed when the two of you got together. Every interaction was filled with jokes, teasing, and playful banter. This isn’t to say that neither of you broached serious topics, just that the serious conversations tended to occur when one of you had a few too many glasses of wine.

    It was over these glasses of wine shared in the evenings at one of your respective homes, that you learned of the deeper parts of each other. You confided in him, telling him of your fears of turning into your parents and never exploring anywhere outside the small beach town. He told you why he moved in the first place, how he was afraid of losing himself in the triviality of his corporate job. Though you had a hard time believing that anything could change his vibrant personality, it was obvious to see that was something he was truly afraid of. It shone in his eyes when he spoke of it, the air filled with unspoken emotions.

    This break in the pattern, this drastic change is exactly what was needed. Not only was Joshua able to freely be himself, without having to tame his personality, he’d also made great friends in the process. He could imagine a life in that small beach town, where everyone knew each other with not an unkind soul in sight. Everyday was different, filled with new obstacles and hurdles to find a solution to, but each night ended the same. Each night ended with the two of you sitting on your porch, facing the ocean, gazing up at the stars.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Twenty-third Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

First … Second … Third … Fourth … Fifth … Fifth Christmas, Part 2 … Sixth … Seventh … Eighth … Ninth … Tenth … Eleventh … Twelfth … Thirteenth ... Fourteenth ... Fifteenth ... Sixteenth ... Seventeenth ... Eighteenth ... Nineteenth ... Twentieth ... Twenty-first ... Twenty-second ... Twenty-third

Here’s the last one … 23 chapters later … no idea it woud turn into this … and am totally glad it did :)

Thanks everyody who reblogged, noted, commented and tagged … you are all gods in my world and I appreciate you from the bottom of my soul :)

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Sitting quietly on the couch, fire crackling on the hearth, wind whistling in the eaves, Mulder put his head back, nestling in beside Scully’s as she read something or other with a pastel cover and a beach scene and a faceless woman wearing a floppy hat, “hey, Scully?”

Patiently, she put her finger in her book to hold her spot, “yeah?”

“I want to decorate the hell out of this place.”

She couldn’t fight the smile that burst forth, “only you would use hell to describe Christmas.”

“Come on. I think Maggie would like us to do it up right, our first Christmas back together and in her house to boot. We can intermingle her stuff and our stuff and I can go buy stuff for the front yard and porch.” Having sank his teeth into the idea, it was now exploding in his head, visions of inflatable things and blinking lights and evergreen garland, pointsettas and pinecones and cinnamon-smelling potpourri boiling on the stove, “I mean, it’ll be the stuff of Christmas dreams!”

“Okay, you had me with your overuse of the word ‘stuff’ but then you rolled out the emphatic Christmas dreams ending and moved it right on into over-saccharined insanity.”

Shifting sideways, he pulled his leg up, the ever present Flab jumping on his lap while Dagoo looked on, comfy from his blanket near the heat of the fireplace, “look, even Flab appreciates my saccharine enthusiasm. Look at her. She’d dying to have you say yes because she wants her own Grinch costume and Dagoo needs a Rudolph nose.”

“I think Dagoo wants you to be quiet so he can keep napping.”

He saw the moment he won and grinning, “we should go shopping.”

“Yes, we should.” Will’s voice drifted down the stairs where he’d been listening rapturously, with both mind and ear, feeling his father’s win and his mother’s amusement. Coming down further and poking his head past the wall, “right now. The Uncles will love it when they come over for Christmas.”

“That’s right, Scully. We’re gonna have like 20 people here for two days. We owe it to them to make this completely Maggie Christmas worthy.”

Not about to deny Will or Mulder a damn thing ever in life, Scully stood up, holding her hand out to pull him with her then gesturing towards the fire, “put that out so we don’t burn the house down and we’ll go buy out the Christmas sections of everywhere.”

Will hooted, racing back upstairs for a sweatshirt, Mulder gave her a big, wet kiss on the cheek and did as told while Scully just giggled in happy glee.

&&&&&&&&&&&

When the Gunmen had shown up with Will on that bridge, the world didn’t end but began anew, saving Mulder, getting everyone back to the hospital, aiming a homemade and completely genius EMP handheld device at the hovering ship, sending it and its government fuckers as Frohike called them, away for long enough to get the gang safely away in the boat parked just below the bridge.

She’d saved the world but more importantly, she’d saved Mulder with the help of Will’s blood and her ability to completely compartmentalize the fact that her friends were alive and had been hiding her son from her for the past 16 years. Science kicked in, she brought human beings back from the brink of extinction and when it was all over, she screamed at the Gunmen for three minutes apiece then broke down, crying with her equally emotional son in her arms.

Eventually, over the course of the following three days, while the world was vaccinated, her and Mulder learned the story of the past decade and a half of the Gunmen and Will in abstentia. In the silence that hung around them when Frohike finished, Scully breathed out the largest sigh of relief in her entire, God-damned life and looked at her boy, “will you come home with me and be our son again … if you can ever forgive me?”

More crying ensued and an hour or three later, Will moved into the Unremarkable guest room, which was neither a guest room nor unremarkable anymore, given it had proudly been a resting spot for Maggie and would now be the home of her grandson. Within a few weeks, an agreement was floated between the six of them, Scully, Mulder and William moving into Maggie’s home while the Gunmen took over the farmhouse, the basement perfect for computer equipment, enough room for the three of them and the solitude to which they’d become accustom.

They came over three times a week for dinner to see their nephew.

&&&&&&&&&&

Shopping had never been so much fun. Both Mulder and Will had carts, racing down aisles in the local Wal-mart, doing their best not to steer into rows and nearly failing with regularity and hilarity combined. They called back and forth over tall things because, as Mulder put it, Scully was a short thing and needed to be kept track of. They debated icicle lights or fat LEDs for the front porch. They held up garish stockings and neon pink garland and giggled in unison at the metallic orange Christmas tree on display.

They ended up spending nearly all of Scully’s paycheck and she couldn’t have cared in the slightest.

Once back in the car, they stopped for Frosties, eating them while shivering their way home before finally pulling in the driveway and unloading Scully’s filled to the brim SUV. In typical teenage boy fashion, Will informed them that since he was out of school for Christmas break and had absolutely no reason to get up early in the morning, he would like to start the decorating now.

Mulder couldn’t think of one reason to argue and Scully gave them an approving smile, “why don’t you two start and I’ll go make the hot chocolate.”

&&&&&&&&&

It took until the next evening to finish, sleep finally taking the three of them down around two a.m. and lasting until noon. By that night, however, the only thing left were the Christmas trees, standing bare on either side of the fireplace, Maggie’s on the left and theirs on the right. William sat between them, boxes of ornament surrounding his crossed legs, lids off, treasures waiting patiently to be hung. “So, Scullly, would it be better to mix all the ornaments or would you like to keep them separate? Maggie’s on Maggie’s and ours on ours?”

She couldn’t give him a definite answer through the tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks.

Mulder’s heart cracked and with his own eyes damp, he pulled her into a hug, “I think we should mix ‘em all up. I have a feeling Maggie’d like it that way; she’d know that we’re really back together for good this time because, I mean, nothing says steadfast togetherness like mixing the mother-in-law’s holiday decorations in with our own.”

Scully laughed against his shirt, wiggling one arm from her hold on him to ruffle through their son’s hair, “what do you think, Will? Mix or separate?”

“Already mixing, mom, so the question is moot.” He had his own small box on his lap from which he was pulling homemade things, a popsicle-sticky, glittery, shiny, gluey, messy, intricate, woven, carved assortment of historically significant baubles he’d made with the Gunmen over the years. He lay them out on the rug, “we should keep taking one from each pile, nine ornaments each, put them on one tree then do the same for the other. We’ll have an even distribution that way or at least as even as we’ll be able to get given I don’t know your ornament count but we’ll make do.” The silence that hung above him made him look up to see his father shaking his head in befuddlement and his mother about to burst into laughter, “what?”

Mulder nudged Scully with his elbow, “he is totally your kid.”

Pointing to one of Will’s ornaments, “he made a green sequin alien head. He’s both of ours.”

Will held the alien head up to Mulder, “I sure am.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&

It took most of the evening to hang 78 years worth of bulbs and memories, backstories being told for most, Will curious and open, questioning, commenting, loving the fact that he had a history, that he had a family with a history, that he was a part of that history. It was only when they’d finished that Scully suddenly realized, “if these are the things you made with your Uncles, what are they putting up on their Christmas tree?”

Will grinned, “I was confined to a building with them for 15 years, I made so many things that they’ll never miss what I took and besides, they wanted to give me more to bring home but I knew they wanted to keep a lot of it so believe me when I say, these aren’t even the tip of the iceberg … but I need to crash now so g’night and I’ll see you in the morning.” Giving both of them the long hugs they all needed all the time lately, he disappeared upstairs, leaving his parents to their standing and hugging and enjoying and occasional quick kissing.

Before anything got out of hand, Mulder pulled away from her, “I’ve got a gift for you.”

Because after several decades she was sure she knew what it was, she sat down, ready and waiting, grin on and hand out. Seeing her once he came back in the room, he chuckled, “no more surprising you is there?”

“Nope.” Waving her fingers in a hand it to me motion, “gimme.”

Laughing louder now, he sat down beside her, “it’s actually a two-fold gift. Here’s number one.” Opening the plain box, she found, resting quietly on the bed of cotton, the quarter necklace she had found in her mother’s possessions at the hospital, chain gone, Christmas hook attached. Before she could utter more than a small, confused, “Mul-,” he stopped her with a hand to the knee, “I know what that quarter is.”

She’d been wondering since the moment she found it, in the items envelope at her mother’s bedside, “how?”

“I gave it to her. Well, actually, she gave it to me. Back then, it was just a quarter from her purse but she gave it to me the night I met her, the night you were abducted by Barry. I was standing there, lost and confused and angry and scared out of my mind and I had to go do something, anything, just … find you. She’d watched me throw my cellphone at the wall at one point, frustrated as hell that no one was doing anything immediately, all talking and thinking instead of finding. Once I’d decided I needed to do something myself, she stopped me and gave me a quarter and told me to call her if I heard anything, regardless of time or information.” Stopping for a deep breath, he continued in a whisper, “I didn’t find anything out to call and tell her but I kept the quarter in my pocket anyway, holding it and hoping I’d need to use it soon. Eventually I got … we got you back but I kept the quarter anyways. I saw it as kind of my good luck charm at that point but then Maggie yelled at me and put me in my place for running with you so I had the quarter made into a necklace and I gave it back to her, telling her she’d never need a quarter to call me because we’d never be that far away again.”

Scully had been turning it over and over in her fingers, holding, spinning, twirling absently while she listened. When Mulder fell silent, she looked up at him, confusion still evident, “why didn’t you tell me when I found it or years ago, really?”

“Don’t be mad but it was a Maggie and me thing. It was ours. Our link. Our … connection to each other that was just ours. I never really had anything like that with my mother and …” now going sheepish on her, ducking his head, “I didn’t want to share it in case we went our separate ways. I didn’t want you to think of anything of your mom’s with a bad taste. I guess I figured a mystery was better than anger.”

Completely appreciating the logic, she first kissed his cheek, then kissed the quarter, dangling it in front of them, smiling through her ever-present tears, “I love it and the story and regardless of what may happen in the future, I’ve always loved you and always will so you don’t have to worry about that. I do however, wonder why you’re telling me now.”

“Because that was my last secret from you forever. I wanted everything out there when you got your second gift.” Reaching under the couch, he slid out a larger box, perfect size for a round bulb, “Merry Christmas part two.”

With that quizzical eyebrow he so very much loved to the ends of the Earth, he watched her open the box to a clear ornament, a piece of parchment paper rolled inside it, a handful of iridescent confetti heaped underneath it. Carefully unscrewing the sphere, she withdrew the paper, unrolling it carefully, reading intently then shaking her head in wonder, reading a second time just to be sure.

Once she looked up at him, eyes filled with twinkling amazement, he tossed the confetti in the air, covering them both, “so, will you be there?”

Her affirmative answer came in the form of her climbing eagerly onto his lap, straddling him, hugging him tightly as she whispered her, “I could never be anywhere else,” as she clutched her wedding invitation in her hand, the date printed as December 26, the time 2pm, the place being their front room.

“Gonna change your name? Let me make an honest Mulder out of you?”

As she kissed him once more behind the ear before shifting sideways, sliding down next to him, legs still akimbo around his thighs, “I was thinking more about Fox Scully. What do you say?”

Before he could answer, Will’s voice called down to them, in that uncanny way he had with timing, “I’m best man, right?”

Scully buried her head in his neck while he called back up to his son, “of course but you may have to battle it out with Frohike.”

“Naw, we’ll just tell him he’s Gunmen of Honor. He can be on mom’s side.”

“G’night, Will.”

“Night, Mom.”

Turning her attention back to her finally, very near future husband, “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Mulder.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Scully.”